Toiling in a Basement

    Two afternoons per week, I notice a man cleaning the floor at a senior center. He's usually by himself. The room, busy during the morning, is empty. I pass by his door while picking up my elderly mother.
    Last week, I struck up a conversation with this person. Bob (I think that's his name) is a retiree. And he's a volunteer.
    He told me the town lowers his taxes in return for cleaning two rooms. His toil is lonely. The rooms are situated in a basement. Few people walk by. Quietude prevails.
    Cleaning the floor crimps Bob's social life. His friends sometimes play golf on weekdays. He doesn't join them. Volunteering takes precedence. Instead of swinging a golf club he sweeps a broom.
    Bob said of his job, "When I commit to something, I try to stick with it."
    His attitude reminds me of a quote by Carlos Ghosn:
    'Commitment. This is my favorite word because in some way, people who are committed are always much more interesting and much more reliable, and much more, I would say, deep than people who are not.'

Simple Attraction

Farmers' Market last week near my home.

    At a farmer’s market, two women drew in the most customers.
    The women wore head coverings and long dresses. They were conservative Mennonites. Simplicity is a hallmark of their religion.
    Their plain attire contributed to their their popularity. Also helping them was authenticity. Customers sensed that these women weren’t wearing costumes to earn a buck. They wear those outfits every day.
    The popular culture ignores people of humility and simplicity. But they’re respected by everyday people.

Pokemon Hot Spot

Boys and a young man play the game Pokémon Go at a town common in Massachusetts.

    I watched a zombie parade. It happened while sitting on a bench in Massachusetts.
    Passersby stared into smartphones. Unlike people in a real parade, these folks zigged and zagged in all directions. Some remained on walkways. Others cut across grass.
    They were playing Pokémon Go, a virtual game that uses real world locations. It's become a craze. Smartphones are required for playing.
    Yesterday was my first exposure to the phenomenon, even if I merely observed.
    I've often criticized the social ill effects of smartphones. This time I'll defer. The fixation on Pokémon doesn’t seem bad. Most folks played in groups of two or three. For example, the first participants I noticed were a man and girl, possibly siblings. Comparing them to zombies isn't fair.
    Exercising and playing together beats staring into phones, even if ironically this activity includes staring into phones.

Park to Myself

    Most summer evenings, children occupy the playground in my town. But not on July 4th, a national holiday. The setting goes quiet. So does the rest of the town.
    On that weekend, people head to the beach, or the mountains, or wherever. They’re looking for a break from the hustle and bustle. The problem is, it requires hustle and bustle to reach those places. Highways and tourist areas become crowded.
    I remain in town.
    The park becomes a haven. Behind the swing sets is a grove of trees (seen in photo). There, shade and quietude relax me.
    On July 4th weekend, people who stay in town enjoy more relaxation than those seeking it elsewhere.

Screens and Sky

Fireworks explode in a suburb of Boston on the eve of July 4, 2016, a national holiday.

    Facing fireworks is different than watching them.
    Two girls (in the left photo) sat on the roof of a pickup truck. Fireworks exploded in the sky. The girls ignored the extravaganza. Their eyes fixated on smartphones. Maybe they were texting, or visiting social media websites.
    The girls were tuned out to the reality in front of them. In a sense, they were even tuned out to each other.
    Nearby, an elderly couple (in the right photo) watched the fireworks. No smartphones in their hands. They were tuned in, to the fireworks and to each other.
    Watching fireworks is great family fun. Well, most of the time. Staring into screens diminishes the togetherness.
    Smartphones curtail family bonding.